3 strikes and he's out

This year HWMBO forgot our wedding anniversary.  I sort of knew he had.  In fairness he was in Australia the week before, he had been ill whilst he was away and still had health concerns when he got back.

But if I knew I was going somewhere and it was our anniversary as I was getting back, I would buy a card (and a bloody diamond ring) before I went.  I even tried the "gosh, it's our anniversary just after you get back" ploy and then I had wondered if his mother would mention it to him whilst he was away (she'd probably rather try not to remember!).

I simply left his card at his breakfast place and waited for the penny to drop. The flowers arrived in the middle of the afternoon and lovely they were too but as ungrateful as it sounds a quick 'get me out of this hole' call to interflora doesn't quite cut the mustard for me in terms of thoughtful deeds. 

I didn't gripe, I wasn't overly bothered, it just seems the way really for some men that are too lazy to think about things that aren't top of their priority list (I bet he remembers the date of W.O.A every year).

But then something happened, I received a comment on a blog post I had written last year.  One I had forgotten, the one in which I explained why I was so hurt that HWMBO had forgotten our Wedding Anniversary.  Yes, that's how forgiving I am, I'd forgotten he'd forgotten two bloody years running.

Well o'dearly beloved, let me make myself absolutely clear, the rule is 3 strikes and you are out....out of pocket by one huge measure in a way a call to interflora could never ever satisfy.  There is an entire year in which he can plan something that adds up to 3 years worth of luuuurvin.

I shall be taking odds closer to the time on whether he remembers, but I'm already thinking I will be a flogging a dead horse.  Should any of the metal mates be reading, any chance you could poke him in the ribs about the time of the Monsters of Rock Cruise, thank you muchly.